After I had a good cry and ended up using the cleaner corners of the polishing rag to wipe my snot away, we sat down again in front of the silverware rack in silence.

I didn't know what to say, and Rosa didn't offer anything either. We just sat there, staring at the silverware, feeling the weight of what Rosa had just revealed about herself. And as much as my mind protested that all that she'd said was impossible-- it made no sense-- and though I couldn't fathom how to absorb this information, I also couldn't deny that whatever pain Rosa was feeling was real.

Which meant that what she had been saying was probably all true, too.

"So," I said thickly, my nose still a bit clogged, "why would you tell me this now?"

"That," Rosa said swiftly, swiveling around towards me,  "is a very good question."

I blinked at her and tilted my head, asking her to continue.

"This may be even harder to believe than what I just said--"

"Even harder?" I whispered in quiet despair.

"--but I really am telling the truth, so listen."

I nodded, swallowing.

She took a deep breath. "The truth is, we are inside an otome game."

"...A what?"

"An otome game," she repeated. "It's a game in which the heroine romances several capture targets, and according to which choices you make, you will finish the game with a different ending."

Well. Those were terms I was familiar with.

She launched into an explanation of the mechanics of this 'oh-tomay' game, which was apparently like theater, but in book form, but seen with your eyes, but you got to choose your own path, but it was actually a sort of turn-based play, and you had a limited amount of possible endings, but you had these stats that you needed to raise, too, so you needed to schedule yourself just right and--

"And no," I said abruptly, cutting her off. "Nope. I don't get it."

"I told you it would be harder to understand."

I shook my head. "So you're trying to say that we're in some kind of book theater?"

Rosa turned her gaze to the ceiling, thinking. "Mm, I guess?"

I threw my hands up. "That makes no sense. You can't tell me my entire life was a play in the theater! I lived it!"

She chewed on her lip, her brows furrowed. "Maybe I shouldn't have explained this first," she sighed. "How about this. Let's skip over that for now and just say that I know things about our lives, and what will most likely happen in the future, because my previous self learned of this world somehow before."

This time I turned my gaze up to the ceiling, my head hanging backwards. I inspected the beams on the ceiling idly, struggling to come to terms with whatever Rosa was saying. But as much as I tried, "Yeah. I don't get it at all."

Rosa watched me for a second before huffing in frustration. She waved her hands in the air, as if she batting dust away from here. "Agh, here, ignore everything I said so far about the game."

I raised my head to look at her warily. "And?"

"Just think of it this way. Someone told me a story, okay? A story that takes place in this world, and they told me, um, seventeen different possible endings--three for each character, and one harem and one ultimate bad ending-- that corresponds with actual people in this world. But it turns out that this story is kind of like divined prophecies, for the original Rosa, who as I've said, I've become. Are you following me so far?"

"Divined prophecies for original Rosa, that you've become," I repeated, trying to understand what was leaving my mouth. "So...  someone with divination powers saw seventeen different prophecies for you."

Rosa nodded emphatically. "Exactly. It was basically one prophecy, but, like, super duper thorough. The diviner thought up of practically all possibilities, and I'm living that life now."

I began to nod as well, slowly, as my mind continued running a mile a minute. "Okay, I think I'm sort of getting it."

She beamed at me, and I waved away the sparkles absentmindedly. "Great! Now that you get that, let me explain."

I bolted upright in my seat, eyes wide. I thought that was it! "There's more?"

She gave me a sheepish look, but nodded. "See, the thing is, up until now I was trying my hardest to save this one guy that comes out in the prophecies because he always dies. But the thing is, my goal has become bigger."

"Huh?" I said faintly.

"Instead of saving only the capture targets, I'm going to aim to save the country."

"Huh?!"

She flapped her hand at me. "I know, I know. It's impossible for one girl to save the country, right? That's why I have a plan-- it took me forever to make it, by the way-- and I need your help."

"Huh?!?!"

Sticking out her chest proudly, Rosa flashed a grin at me and said, "That's right! We're going to save this country from war!"

---

Okay.

Let me get this straight.

Number one, Rosa was not Rosa, except now she was. She was originally some other girl in some other world, but she changed bodies. Or possessed one. Or something. Hard to wrap my head around, but alright. For now.

Number two, Rosa knew of a bunch of prophecies (seventeen, had she said?) about this world that depended on what she did, and she had been planning to go off of those prophecies to save, like, six people from certain death. Especially one of them, whom I remembered she had been talking about before. The Prime Minister's son. Targets?

Number three, now Rosa was aiming bigger and aiming higher, and she was going to save the whole country if she could. And apparently (maybe the worst part of it all?!?) was that she was going make me help her.

Number four, well, I really, honestly, completely... did not understand anything at all.

"Horrible," I croaked, and Paul gave me an alarmed look. He looked down at the napkins he'd been folding, a crestfallen expression on his face, so I added, "Not you, Paul. Just, uh, my napkins. I was talking about them. I'm horrible at folding them. Haha." I waved my napkin at him half-heartedly, too out of energy to sound more convincing. 

He nodded warily, inching away. But then again, I was used to that already, so I turned back to my own worries at hand.

Not long after she had dropped the bomb on me, her footman had come striding in to slip her a note. After scanning the small bit of paper, she'd made a face and said, "I think I have to go soon," but hesitated, her eyes on me.

I'd managed to give her a small smile. "Uhh, I'll think about what you said, and we can talk later?"

She nodded, giving me a small smile back, but she rose from her seat reluctantly and slowly, as if she wasn't entirely sure. She had even glanced back at me a few times before she had gone out the doors, which she almost never did.

And I, well, I was very, very confused. And my head might be starting to hurt. I couldn't really tell.

Rosa was always a straightforward person. Always looking ahead, always thinking of the next step. I didn't doubt the pain I'd seen from someone I knew to be as stoic and as driven as she was, but everything she had told me today... I mean, it was a lot.

It did match up to all the nonsense that she'd been talking to me about all this time, though. Words like capture targets, routes, that one comment she always made about death being the point and all... Even when she'd been making those strange statements about the future. It would make sense if she had been acting on these prophecies this entire time, so I guess they weren't nonsense anymore if they were actually true.

But was it true? Or more like, I trusted her, but could I trust this? I mean, I definitely trusted her. I did. Would doubting her on this mean I didn't find her trustworthy? But I was her best friend. She was practically my sister. If I didn't trust her, who did?

I shook my head a little and focused on the napkins again, which I'd been folding in a daze all this time. I had work-- this was not the time to be questioning my trust in people. And while I was at it, I tried not to think about the dull throbbing in my chest, too.

"Filian!" Cook barked, his burly arms folded over his chest. He jerked his chin towards the storage. "Need more potatoes."

"Yessiree," I said, my voice subdued.

He frowned, and he gave me a once-over. "You sick?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

His frown deepened, and he surveyed the restaurant while I trudged past him into the storage. "Wait." He unfolded his arms and placed a hand on my shoulder as I was passing.

"Mm?" I said, looking up at him.

"We have enough people. Go rest."

My eyes widened so much they almost bulged out of their sockets. "What?" Cook was letting me off work? Cook? But he hated when people missed shifts! Or made sudden schedule changes!

He gave me one rough pat, then pushed me back out towards the open. "You worked too much for too long," he said gruffly.

Stumbling out, I twisted to look back at Cook. "Cook," I croaked, feeling hot tears building up in my chest. "I can't--"

He crossed his arms again and gave me a look, and I swallowed. He huffed and turned around, ambling back to the kitchen. "Thank you," I whispered to his back.

When I slowly faced forward again, Paul was gaping at us, too. "Did... did Cook just let you off your shift?"

I managed a watery laugh. "I guess so?"

Looking impressed, he turned back to his napkins, so I waved a small bye to him and slipped home.

When I closed the door behind me in our room, Mom was turned towards me, looking surprised. "Filian? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Cook let me off my shift."

Her eyebrows rose to her forehead. "Cook did?"

"Yeah." I chuckled weakly. "I know, right?"

In a second, Mom leaned towards me, and her lips twisted in concern. "Filian? Are you alright?"

"I..." I sighed. "I think so? But maybe I'm not. I don't know." I drifted towards her and slumped onto the bed, face down. "I don't know," I repeated, my voice muffled by the sheets.

Mom's answering hand on my back was cool and soothing. I lay there, letting her gently pat me in the silence, for a while, before curling up and closing my eyes.

Maybe a quick nap might help.

I sighed again. Maybe.